


To Say Goodbye

by Phrensiedom



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Is Gay, First Kiss, Kissing, M/M, Post-Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), Post-Game(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:47:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28420092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phrensiedom/pseuds/Phrensiedom
Summary: When Nines appears at Hank's front door, he delivers devastating news that wholly alters their lives.
Relationships: Hank Anderson/Connor, Hank Anderson/Connor/Upgraded Connor | RK900, Hank Anderson/Upgraded Connor | RK900
Comments: 4
Kudos: 24





	To Say Goodbye

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LatexKaktus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LatexKaktus/gifts).



> This piece was inspired by comments made by the lovely [LatexKaktus](https://twitter.com/LatexKaktus).

Hank raised his head from his notebook at the sound of a few brisk knocks at the front door. He cocked one untamed, greyed eyebrow, wondering who had the balls to bother him after nine PM, let alone while he was taking paid time off. He grumbled and capped his pen, slotting it in the binding of the journal to hold his place as he pushed himself to his feet and shuffled to the front door. He paused to stop the record that spun on the turntable, disquieting silence rushing in to fill the calming smooth jazz's place.

Hank released a heavy breath and opened the door to find Nines standing on the front step, his hands folded in front of himself, unaccompanied by Connor. _God, no._ His stomach formed into a hard ball and sank through him as he clenched his teeth, his lips pressing into a thin, pale line in an effort to maintain a collected expression. He, however, had little doubt the RK900 could see the slight movements plain as day.

"Hello, Lieutenant Anderson. May I come in?"

Hank hesitated for a moment, studying Nines' expression for any hint of emotion, but there was none to be found, his familiar features utterly flat. Finally, he stepped back, saying, "Just Hank is fine," as the android passed in front of him and then followed Hank's direction, seating himself on the couch. He sat close to the armrest, in the unsettling pose androids often adopted, spine straight, shoulders back, head raised, hands resting in their lap, too perfect to be human. Hank collapsed onto the other side of the couch, slouching and spreading out, and turned his attention to Nines. "What's going on?"

"Connor is dead."

Not a single twitch of human emotion touched the android's face as he dropped this horrifying news in Hank's lap. The older man looked away, his gaze finding Connor's half-finished sketch of Sumo lying on the coffee table, for fear he would punch that callous, empty face-- simultaneously exactly like and completely unlike Connor’s. 

"Permanently?"

"That is correct. Cyberlife purged the backup files of his personality and memories after they lost control of him."

"Figures." Hank closed his eyes, brows dipping into a hard frown, and drew a deep breath. "How'd it happen?"

"He was ambushed during a routine suspect interview. Shot through the head twice, multiple bullet wounds in the torso, and a coup de gras through his thirium pump regulator."

"Jesus Christ." Despite his efforts, Hank's voice shook. He knew he would never be rid of the images that appeared in his mind. He very suddenly felt the need for a drink as strong as it had ever been. There was no way he could control the cravings without Connor by his side, placing kisses on his face, his hands, his throat, to distract him. 

They sat in silence for a few minutes, neither looking at one another, until Nines' voice—Connor’s voice—said, "Forgive me if this is inappropriate, but Connor and I never interfaced. He wanted us to share our memories with each other verbally first."

Hank let out a single laugh. That was definitely Connor. Romantic to a fault. 

"Would you share your memories of him—" Nines' voice faltered, and Hank looked over to find him staring at his hands, still resting in his lap, "—with me?"

The android lifted his head, his expression still a blank mask, though there was now a noticeable accumulation of tears along the waterline of each eye. And then he blinked, and they were gone, leaving no trace of their having existed. Hank's heart broke for him. Nines was just as close with Connor, if not closer. They shared an intimacy he never could. It had made him jealous in the past, sharing his partner with someone he couldn't possibly compare to, but the feeling had mellowed to the faintest occasional throb as time passed.

"Well, I don't have an android's memory, that's for sure, but—” He hummed in thought for a moment, his voice so low it sounded like a growl. “—actually, gimme a minute." 

Hank returned briefly to the kitchen to retrieve his notebook, and sitting back down directly next to Nines, he flipped it open to the first page, dated December 12, 2038, one month after the revolution ended. "It took Connor a month to convince me to go to therapy, where my friends had tried and failed for three years. He insisted I start a journal, and I've managed to write at least something every day for the past two years." 

He passed it to Nines, who inclined his head and turned a few pages. The android hesitated for a moment and said, "I believe this entry is a recounting of a sexual encounter between you and Connor. Are you certain you are comfortable sharing this with me?"

Hank stiffened with embarrassment, his stomach buzzing, but relaxed within a few moments. "Yeah, it's fine. Nothing you haven't seen for yourself, anyway."

Nines nodded and closed the notebook, saying, "Thank you, Hank." 

The older man grunted low in his throat and turned his attention back to the likeness of Sumo on the table. "Don't mention it."

Another extended silence fell for a few minutes, each of them withholding more they needed to say but unable to quite say it. Finally, Hank cleared his throat and said, "This is so fuckin' stupid, but could you do me a favor and close your eyes? I want to—" His throat closed for a moment, forcing him to pause and swallow hard. "—I want to say goodbye."

"Visitation of the body is not closed to you."

Hank shook his head, saying, "No. I don't want to see him like that." His gaze found Nines’ again, who was still studying him, his intense blue eyes boring into Hank's skull.

"I see." Nines closed his eyes, effectively transforming his face into Connor's.

"Fuck," Hank whispered, cradling the RK's jaw in either hand. "I'm sorry, Con," he said, his voice hushed so it wouldn't break or crack. "I'm sorry I wasn't there to protect you."

Nines inhaled and opened his mouth, and Connor's voice came out—the tone softer, the cadence less clipped, the volume lower than Nines' voice. "No, Hank. There was nothing you could do. You would have died, too."

"At least you wouldn't have died alone."

"I wasn't alone. Nines found me after a few minutes, and he held me and kissed me and spoke to me." Nines' expression remained flat and emotionless, disrupting the illusion. 

"Did you say anything back to him?"

"No, my speech processing and production modules were damaged beyond repair."

A pause, and then Hank said, "Connor, can I kiss you goodbye?"

A crooked smile—Connor's smile—touched Nines' lips. "Yes, please."

Hank smiled, tears rising in his eyes, and leaned close to place the softest of kisses on Connor's smile, which shifted a touch to conform better to his mouth. His lips were just as soft as Connor's, shaped as if by an artist, and Hank found his own lips felt incomplete without them when they separated. 

"I love you, Connor."

The smile returned to Nines' lips, broader, crinkling the flesh around his eyes, and he said, "I love you, Hank."

A tear slipped down Nines' cheek, and Hank caught it with his thumb and swept it away. The android's eyes flicked open, revealing the cold steel blue again and laying Connor to rest for good. They stared at one another for a few moments, and Nines leaned in for another kiss but for himself this time. Hank had to fight the instinct to pull away, the alarm that blared in the back of his mind, reminding him of his fidelity, as the instinct was wrong. 

Hank returned the kiss firmly, his hand finding the back of Nine’s neck, their lips parting and rejoining a few times. Nines’ mouth tasted distinct from Connor’s, which took him by surprise. He paused and met Nines' gaze. "I wish he were here to see this. He wanted us all together in one relationship so badly."

Nines’ lips twitched with a smile that appeared to be his own and said, "May I stay with you tonight? Not for sexual intimacy, I simply do not wish to be alone tonight."

Hank nodded and said, “Me too.” He enfolded the slender android in his arms, placing a kiss on his glowing red LED. 

Nines rested his temple on Hank's shoulder and closed his eyes, already gathering and compiling his own memories of their paramour to share.


End file.
